


My Bounty is as Boundless as the Sea

by Lmj21



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 'Swords and Shields', Body Worship, Consensual, Erotic Games, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humour, Kink Meme, Mild Angst, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Writing on the Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lmj21/pseuds/Lmj21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric and Cassandra are out on a mission together.<br/>In the evening he drops by her tent to discuss the next instalment of 'Swords and Shields' that she is eagerly anticipating.</p><p>She is surprised by the opportunity Varric gives her to contribute ideas, ideas that soon become far more revealing than either had anticipated.</p><p>This started as smut but became quite romantic too (I hope)! </p><p>Please let me know what you think...</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Bounty is as Boundless as the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> 'My bounty is as boundless as the sea,My love as deep; the more I give to thee,The more I have, for both are infinite.'
> 
> Is Romeo and Juliet really the greatest love story ever told?
> 
> Varric and Cassandra must be close runners up!
> 
> Written for a variety of dragon age kink meme prompts, including:  
> Cassandra has to 'pay' for the next instalment of 'Swords and Shields'  
> Any pairing - writing on skin.  
> Varric and Cassandra's first kiss.  
> Varric admires Cassandra's legs.  
> Varric's new story is about Cassandra.
> 
> Basically a lot of prompts evolved into this piece,
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and please any comments/kudos gratefully received. I'm quite nervous about this pairing as I haven't written for either character before.

“The warrior princess.” Varric announced, arms outstretched as he entered Cassandra’s tent. She’s not unaccustomed to him dropping fragments of his stories to her as bait, always waiting for her to demand more and this time was no different.

“There’s a new character?” She asked as she finished lighting her candles.

“Yeah, sure, she’s going to sort out all the corruption and, perhaps, meet the man of her dreams.” Varric settled himself down on the floor next to her, mildly surprised when she didn’t object.

“Hmm, sounds too good to be true.” She scoffed. “When can I read about this lucky lady?”

“Ah, well, that’s the catch.”

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“Hey, Seeker, don’t be like that. You’ll have your new chapter, just…”

“What?” Her eyes narrowed as he made himself comfortable.

“You have to help me write it.” He raised an inviting eyebrow at her, half expecting to be thrown out. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d kicked his ass; he usually deserved it.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Well, my editor certainly is. Apparently he’s not going to publish anymore of my, and I quote ‘trashy shit’, unless I have a guaranteed readership. And you know my readership pretty much consists solely of you.” His eyes fixed her with a devious look to punctuate his final word.

“Alright. What’s her name?” Cassandra smiled, it was a welcome distraction to be discussing his fiction rather than the day’s toils or impending battles. In the candlelight her sharp features softened, as did her voice, lowered to avoid discovery at this late hour.

“Umm, Zena?”

“That’s a ridiculous name. You need something that will demand respect. Maybe, Clarissa?”

“Perfect. And she should have long blonde ringlets right, like a classic fairy tale damsel?”

“Of course, if she’s just going to sit around waiting to be rescued but you said she was also a warrior so she should have short, practical hair.” Varric struggled to control a smirk.

“Yes, that’s much better. And it should be dark, like her eyes?”

“Yes!”

“So when she first arrives at the city she meets the man who’ll eventually sweep her off her feet. A classic love at first sight tale.”

“Mmm, maybe.” Cassandra sounded less than enthusiastic.

“You don’t like it?”

“Well, wouldn’t it be more interesting if she didn’t like the man at first, maybe he represents everything she hates but eventually…”

“As they get to know each other…”

“Their respect and attraction grows until…”

“Ok, I get the picture. Opposites attract. Much more interesting, slow burning. I like it.”

“Really? I mean, is this how you usually work?”

“It’s usually a lot less fun. Just me and my overactive imagination. It’s better with a co-writer.”

“Oh, Varric, could I really be your co-writer? I don’t know if I want to put my name to…that.”

“Don’t worry Seeker, your identity will be protected at all times.”

“Thank you. Now what should they say when they first meet?”

Varric swallowed quickly, noticing how her eyes shone when she spoke.

“Do they have to speak? Shit, maybe they don’t speak at all. Maybe they just observe one another. Closely.” His eyes mimicking his words.

“Maybe. And what does he think of m- I mean of her, the warrior princess.”

“He thinks she’s… strong, fearless, resilient in the face of loss and disappointment.”

“Ah, disappointment.” She lowered her gaze for a moment. Varric attempted to lift her spirits.

“But that she also has a passionate heart and that even if she doesn’t want to hear it she is very, very beautiful.”

“Really?” Her eyes flicked rapidly back to his, charmed by the compliment.

“Of course, you need your heroine to be beautiful.”

“Of course.” Her hand self-consciously rubbed over the vicious scar on her cheek. When she found his eyes again, she was reassured by a warm, crooked smile and the familiar warmth that anchored her in the shifting world they now inhabited.

“Maybe, she could say to him ‘You are one of the most surprising men I have ever met.’”

“That’s good, let me write that…oh.” Varric, quickly drew a quill and inkwell out of his bag but then began to search.

“What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t brought any paper with me. Could I…” He nodded at her hand and held his out to her. An invitation, without questioning, she laid her hand trustingly in his. He chuckled as he began to scrawl their words over the back of her hand enjoying the little tremors he caught from her: “And when he first meets her he thinks she’s a stony-faced bronto.”

“Hey!” Her hand clenched to withdraw but he held her fingers fast.

“Hey yourself – you suggested they shouldn’t get along to begin with.”

“Still, Bronto...,” his pen flicked over the pulse point on her wrist and she gulped “very well.”

“And she thinks that he is a…” His quill hovered as he waited for his prompt.

“An ignorant nug-lover?”

“Alright.” Varric chuckled as he continued drawing the ink over her forearm. “And how long do they continue to, uh, misunderstand each other?” His hands were on the leather of her tunic, inviting her to reveal more, more skin for him to write their story over. She nodded and her eyes slowly blinked as he began to undo the fastenings, loosening the sleeves and pulling them gently over her arms, her light sleeveless shirt underneath leaving plenty of blank parchment for their story to unfold.

“For far, far too long.” She huskily replied, voice thick with what threatened to be tears. He laughed a little, not unkindly but wanting to keep the mood light; he was still learning to navigate the often stormy terrain of their fragile friendship. Friendship seemed a peculiar word at that moment. Too small to contain the multitude of conflicting feelings Cassandra stirred in him. 

He dipped his quill once more and guided her to lay her arm out straight in front of him.

“Far too long…” He agreed quietly as he began to write, her eyes skimmed over his delicious words, his handwriting tickling her and instantly bringing a blush to her complexion. She hadn’t realised that she’d let out a little moan, but the way he quickly caught her eye, quill hovering she knew. She knew he was waiting for permission.

She looked vulnerable in a way he’d never seen before. Her breath rising from her, her usual short words useless here. He licked his lips a little and slowly, slowly dropped a kiss to the inside crease of her elbow. There’s a jolt but she did not pull away. Instead he scribbled more of their tale over the area he has just kissed. Seeing warmth radiating from her eyes, her dark eyes, he cautiously repeated the gesture further up her toned forearm. Kiss and write the pattern continued; her limb now pliant in his hands until her arm was covered in ink: the quickly scribbled prose that have fed her imagination for years.

“There,” he croaked “That’s the backstory covered.” His smile was not nearly as confident as she’s used to and it made her heart swell for him. 

He watched with fascination as she lifted her arm and her eyes scanned over the declarations and anecdotes he’d tattooed her with. Her eyebrows occasionally raising as he’d recalled a particular argument or misunderstanding between them. She gulped when she read his innermost thoughts and observations. Though she was half dressed in the candlelight, it seemed that it was he who had laid himself bare and he waited, just waited, to see if she would accept him as he was, backstory and all.

“What happens next?” She barely managed to ask once she’d finished drinking in his words.

“Well, that’s what a co-writer helps with. I’ve done all the groundwork. What would you like to happen next? After all, I’m pretty sure you’re my only reader.” He held her stare, wanting her to allow him to continue their tale. His easy confidence with most women he’d encountered had no place here. She was something unique and he was terrified. Cassandra felt the tremble in Varric’s hand and took the lead:

“Maybe, she could tell him that she is sorry for having doubted him?” As she spoke his quill went to work once more, this time snaking around the top of her arm, circling her bicep, “Maybe, she could tell him that she never really doubted him, that she knows it was his loyalty that made him deceive her for so long. Perhaps it is his loyalty that she so lo…admires.” Her concentration wavering as the words wound across her collarbone.

“That’s good,” Varric murmured, his eyes briefly closing, seemingly struggling to make a decision: “I guess, he should tell her how he feels next?” 

Cassandra simply nodded, hypnotised by the power of Varric’s words. 

“Right.” He swallowed, unused to such candour with Cassandra.

He began: “He should tell her that he never wished to make her life difficult, that she is a marvel and that his every action, every deed is dedicated to winning back her respect and proving his devotion to her.”

“You’re not writing that down. You should, it’s very…compelling.” Varric didn’t immediately obey her prompt. Partly because he’s simply baffled over how to proceed and partly because she’s covered, tattooed, with their confession and to venture further would require her to remove further clothing and if the atmosphere were less charged he could jokingly ask her to do so but as it is he doesn’t trust himself not to shatter their brittle moment by making such a crude suggestion.

Instead, Varric simply read her. All the small marks, freckles, scars of her perfect face. She felt naked under his scrutiny. He made her an offering:

“I think I can remember that part.” 

She nodded again.

“Is that the end?” He asked, voice scratchy and raw and far more desperate than he’d have liked. Luckily, Cassandra seemed to be having similar difficulties.

Words vanished from her, any half- formed sentences evaporating as soon as she thought them. She instead found her fingers unfurling in his hand and lacing through his, granting a reassuring squeeze. The ink was smudging but it did not matter; that was all past. 

Varric and Cassandra knelt, hands entwined just observing, all their rows and near misses flowing between them. Eventually they found their faces drawing closer into a kiss. 

Their first kiss.

A kiss neither thought they’d ever feel in this world. 

Apart from the weight of their lips, closed and pressing they were still and silent. Then eventually, their lips began to part and tongues began to venture forth to tell new stories. Soft gasps and a litany of other delicate sounds filled the space, deafening to their ears.

Eventually they parted for breath and Varric leaned his forehead against hers. It may have been because their features were blurred with closeness, or because smoke was drifting in from the camp fire but Varric frowned when he thought he could see Cassandra’s eyes watering slightly. His lips caught her tears, and then scattered over her cheeks and jawline.

“Hey,” he whispered, gently holding her chin up to examine her more closely, “Don’t. We’re writing a love story, remember?” He tried to make it sound light, the words escaping him before he could consider their implications.

“Are we?” The meaning’s not lost on her. Varric swallowed before he responded with the truth:

“Yes.” And then the shyness and reservations were gone and he was kissing her with the passion that has been building over several years. So slowly, and so intricately bound into the numerous fights and betrayals they felt themselves honour bound to, the passion surprised them when it suddenly burst free and demanded their full attention.

The fury of the movement pulled breaths from her but she returned it until they were swaying on their knees, hands buried in each other’s hair and quickly pulled down rolling onto the floor.

With astonishment he found that this was what he’s always wanted and the joy of realisation made him light-headed. Cassandra’s hands immediately scraped the expanse of hairy chest that’d become so familiar to her. The tickling roughness just as exquisite in her hands as it had been in her mind now she could admit it to herself. She felt a burden lighten, a knot struggle loose: years of denial and repression peeling away as his hands continued to roll over her.

For thousands of seconds they kissed until Varric felt the need to speak out, to make sure he was not heading for another crashing disappointment. 

He cleared his throat.

“Seeker, Cassandra, you know what happens next in the stories don’t you?” It’s the only way he could ask, still too fearful to ask in his own persona. Cassandra snickered a little, adjusting her position in his arms.

“Varric, you know I only read your books for precisely what happens next.” Her voice was sultry, inviting and her hands massaged his chest still, pulling him down onto her.

“This is what you want?” He whispered, partly a question and partly a statement to puncture his disbelief.

“You’d know by now if I didn’t.” He laughed, he believed her, her voice dropping in volume as she pulled his mouth to hers once more.

Their kiss was more earnest this time as Varric lowered his body over hers, enjoying the feel of her lithe body arching beneath him. He stroked his fingers through her short hair and nuzzled into her, pressing kisses along her neck and collarbone quickly smearing the words he’d peppered her with.

Her fingers still twining in his chest hair, she quickly wanted more and began unbuttoning the jacket and tunic shoving him impatiently to draw it over his head. She laughed when she saw his inky face and he quickly paid her back by rubbing his ink smeared stubble across her cheek, nibbling at her ear, making her squeal. He jerked briefly, shocked at discovering an entirely new sound from her.  
She sat to draw her undershirt over her head, wanting to feel the press of his flesh against hers but before she could pull him to her again he held her arms away from her body to regard her. If he was writing this scene in one of his books, he’d describe the hero as looking awestruck. His hands swept over her collarbone in soft strokes over her breasts until he was gently holding her. The side of his mouth curled up into smile as he huskily spoke:

“See, the heroine is always beautiful.” 

She groaned at his words, embarrassed and blushing under such close examination. He lovingly dropped his head to the crook of her neck, kissing a delicate path until he lifted one cupped breast to his mouth. He dragged his tongue across her nipple as it quickly stiffened in his mouth, his other hand gently massaging the other breast, before he repeated the gesture, alternating, face contentedly buried between them.

Cassandra sat up, Varric straddling her lap as he continued to run his eloquent tongue over her. Her nimble fingers delved impatiently over him, unable to settle when there was so much more to explore. As his sash was worked loose he sucked in a breath, her nails scratching lightly at his waist.

He shifted to drape his own battle-hardened hands across her scarred stomach and tentatively began unlacing her trousers. She stroked his face, encouraging him with eager kisses.

Shuffling back to pull off her trousers, Varric marvelled at the endless tanned flesh. Following her into battle had always been a pleasure as it allowed him the opportunity to ogle her lengthy limbs. But to glide his hands over her now, that…that was a revelation in itself.

“What are you doing?” Cassandra asked as she saw Varric’s hand pick up his pen again.

“I suddenly feel very…inspired.” He replied, eyeing the blank skin hungrily.

“Is that what you call it?” She raised an eyebrow and toed the growing hardness in his trousers. Needing no further invite, he embarked on his quest, his quill scrawling hastily composed dedications to each part of her exquisite body. He felt a deep pang of frustration that there was no known word for the way his skin felt against hers or for the sounds that she made in his arms. Shit, he’d have to invent a new lexicon to adequately pay her homage.

She reclined, basking in his adoration until the inscriptions and kisses were strewn across the length of her calves and thighs. With his face arriving level with her pelvis he hesitated briefly, laying his pen back down. She bucked her hips invitingly making him chuckle. She moaned in response:

“Don’t tell me your tale ends there?” 

He placed a deliberate kiss on the slight dimple above the waistband of her briefs, the heat immediately making her gasp and wriggle against the rasp of his stubble; her writhing making it easier for him to draw her briefs away, travelling the course of her ink-daubed legs once more.

As he leant back on his heels his eyes greedily devoured the image before him. Cassandra grew brazen under his watch and beckoned him to return to her, he crawled over the dusky span of her legs, kissing all the way until he reached the centre once again. His hands gradually stroked at the soft curls there and the paler flesh of her thighs urging her to open to him. Her legs, her beautiful boundless legs, unfurled for him and he settled himself happily between them before laying the first of many, many kisses on her sensitive cleft.  
Sensing her resistance trembling, his tongue began to work an intricate pattern over the nub at the peak of her sex. She mewled and pulled at his hair, half directing his actions. He needed no further encouragement to continue his work laving thick strokes over her lips gathering moisture with his tongue. His groans vibrating against her wickedly, making her sob with want until he cautiously began to use his expert fingers to slide inside her.

One finger at first, exploratory and languid, just rubbing inside her hot velvet walls feeling for each minute spasm. Varric’s tongue simultaneously dancing over her clit as her body rocked against his curling finger, quickly becoming two fingers.

Cassandra felt beautifully awake under his ministrations, forcing her mind to focus on the present rather than running frantically over the horde of ridiculous decisions that had prevented this happening sooner. She inwardly berated herself for her stubbornness, her pride, her defensiveness; this wonderful man had been at her side all the time. And now, now, finally she felt free to revel in his requited desire.

The joy of discovery enhanced the new songs he was singing with her flesh and she could feel sweeping pleasure twisting through her limbs, over and under his smeared words until they collided and crashed in her centre, forcing the air from her lungs. She clung to him, shaking, wanting to share her ascent. Varric held fast, tongue lapping rhythmically and fingers grinding against the throbbing nerves deep inside her.

Eventually her rocking stilled and she squirmed, giggling against him immediately over-sensitive. He breathed teasingly over her as he withdrew his fingers and kissed her tenderly once again. Crawling over the softness and sharp contours of her body. He brought his lips down against hers in a bruising kiss and she shivered feeling his hard erection against her stomach.

There was a series of hurried, awkward moves as the last of their clothing was removed and then their bodies were moving rapidly over one another, Varric flipped onto his back and Cassandra gripping onto the shoulders as she lowered herself onto his thick cock. 

Varric groaned as the wonderful weight fell against him and then began to move with a determined rhythm. Above him, the rippling muscles of Cassandra’s body stretched tantalisingly close and yet still felt lie a mirage. Varric could do little more than run his hands over her wondrous legs and watch as she rode him.

Her hands clutched at his chest as she pounded him into her over and over. He filled her perfectly, each time the feeling of slight pain giving way to a scorching bliss and chased the feeling with purpose. His eyes filled with wonder spurred her on; if she was going to make it into his pantheon of heroines then she wanted to at least be memorable. Seemingly in agreement, his blotted hands pulled her body crushingly onto his.

Despite his stocky frame, Cassandra had always been impressed with his agility in battle and now appreciated the tensing sinews of his chest and arms, veins throbbing delectably in his neck. She fell slightly forward to grind her sensitive clit against his hard flesh. The maddening friction drove Cassandra to cry out and Varric immediately responded, encouraging and praising her with softer tones than she thought him capable of. 

He abruptly used his strength to pull himself to a seating position, Cassandra still straddling his lap so that she was raised above him, her breasts at his head height. He gave a low rumbling laugh, maybe there was a Maker after all; the coincidence seemed too exquisite to have happened by chance. 

“Shit, Cassandra, you are perfect. Divine.” He murmured as his tongue and teeth once more went to work over her dark nipples, immediately groaning in delight as they stiffened against his lips.

“Divine.” She repeated throatily, her hands guiding his head, fingers twined in his hair as her hips continued rocking against him until she could feel the familiar tug of the tide of arousal swelling through her and she clasped him tight to her, refusing to allow any more distance between them as she shuddered around him.

The tight clenching of her walls clasping around him was almost enough to pull him into his own climax but not quite:

“I want to see all of you.” He exclaimed, pulling her face to his for a searing kiss before beginning to move again.

Her body now limp and trembling, she allowed him to gently roll her over, planting kisses on all of her smudgy flesh until she was lying face down on the bedroll with Varric’s heated hands running over the blank parchment of her back, the faded lines of scars providing a beautifully unique canvas for his words as he set about marking uncharted territory.

As his lips travelled down her spine, he lingered when they arrived at the round firmness of her ass and massaged the flesh there. With one hand guiding himself into her, he caressed and clutched at the infinite skin around him. Sweat now creating a drag beneath his blackened fingers.

When she began to arch her back, he responded by building a more violent pace than before and her voice crooned encouragement.  
“Damn it Cass, I never knew…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, but it was enough. She understood the disbelief and gratitude and love in his voice. That voice, one that had mocked and cajoled and lied to her. A voice that spoke to her in her dreams, now chanting tribute over her. His voice alone was almost enough to pull her headlong into another orgasm. That and the steady pounding of his hips against the subtle nerves inside her.

He slowed a little, clearly endeavouring to savour the moment for as long as possible, she guessed (and guessed accurately, because she felt the same fear) that perhaps he didn’t believe they would ever be together like this again. She reached a hand round to stroke at whatever part of him she could, desperate to reassure him that she would not let him go now they had found each other. 

“Please Varric, don’t stop.” She sobbed, her pleading sending him spiralling into a crashing orgasm that she felt flooding through her. The heat and pressure finally releasing her euphoria once more.

Once the immediate rapture had ebbed, their tired bodies collapsed together and the strangled cries became gentler sighs as they lay blushing together.

Silence suddenly oppressive after the words that they had shared.

**************************************  
As they lay panting beside each other, their hands loosely held between them, Cassandra stole a quick sideways glance at the dwarf, her lover, who had come in and swept her off her feet. She laughed:

“Now I see where you get your inspiration from!”

“Oh that was no ‘Swords and Shields’ encounter, that…that will be its own epic ballad. All identities closely protected, obviously.” His own smile warm on her face.

“No, Varric, you won’t really write about this?” She scolded, suddenly fearful.

“Alright, warrior princess.” He smiled, kissing her cheek. The gentle glow of contentment allowed fear to creep back into him. Feeling far too happy for to believe it would last, he half-heartedly spoke:

“I better head back…” She immediately threw a leg heavily over him, shaking her head and denying him leave. He didn’t protest, his heart lightening.

“You cannot make that my new nickname, it’s ridiculous.” She muttered, voice drowsy with sleep.

“How about if I save it for when we’re alone. You can carry on calling me an ignorant nug-lover if you want to make it fairer?” Varric’s hands stroked at the untidy head now nestled into his shoulder, his mouth dropping light kisses on her forehead, simply luxuriating in an easy intimacy he would never have dreamt possible.

“No.” Cassandra said, draping an arm over her hero “No, I like saying your name, Varric Tethras.”

“And I like hearing you say it, Princess.” He kissed her nose as she swatted half-heartedly at him. “Cassandra Pentaghast.”

Her name a final prayer before he fell to sleep.  
**********************************  
Dawn broke finding Cassandra at the river’s edge, she was sad to have to remove the remnants of Varric’s words but excited by the idea of providing him with a fresh canvas later. She’d almost finished when the Inquisitor came to join her. 

They smiled and continued in companionable silence until the Inquisitor suddenly stared at Cassandra:

“What’s that on your back?”

“My back?” Cassandra frowned.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” The Inquisitor squinted clearly trying to decipher the words.

Cassandra strained her neck to see, and her eyes went wide as she read the words reflected in the rippling water:

xxx retfa reve ylippah devil yeht dnA

**Author's Note:**

> If you provided one of the original prompts then I hope this fulfils your request to some extent.
> 
> Like I noted at the start, I haven't written either of these characters before (mostly because I love them both too much!) Please let me know what you think comments/suggestions/kudos very happily received.
> 
> P.S Stole the line "For thousands of seconds they kiss.." from the poem 'Hour' by Carol Ann Duffy...beautiful sonnet if you want to seek it out :)


End file.
